Estranged
by char128
Summary: What if the events portrayed in the Scarlet Pimpernel had not happened? Would Percy and Marguerite have remained estranged forever or would they get back together...


What if the events in The Scarlet Pimpernel hadn't occurred? If Armand's connection to the League was not discovered and Marguerite not been blackmailed by Chauvelin. Would Percy and Marguerite have ever got back together?

5th October 1792 – Marguerite Blakeney

I was genuinely so happy for dear little Suzanne today at her wedding. She looked so excited and full of joy, Sir Andrew is a good man and will make her happy I am sure. The happy couple bid us all adieu at the reception as they left to go on honeymoon for the next few weeks. I will miss Suzanne while she is gone, it has been wonderful having her here these past couple of months. Just to have a proper friend here, someone I can talk to, reminisce with and not feel constrained by having to say what social etiquette dictates I ought to. It has been lonely this last year; I don't normally admit that, least of all to myself. I hardly ever see Percy these days, he always finds excuses to be away from me; hunting, sailing, playing cards....anything it would seem to avoid spending any time at home. But then when he is home, it's not as though we talk, we just exchange petty insults that have replaced our conversations. What has happened to us? Did I imagine those seemingly so far off days of courtship when I could call him mine, he would be there for me, kiss away any tears of sadness, hold me tight in his arms? I would sometimes catch him looking at me, his eyes so filled with love and devotion it would take my breath away. What am I left with now? An inane fop of a husband who thinks more about what colour waistcoat he will wear tomorrow than he does of me. Is this the perfect marriage I dreamed of? I said it was wonderful to have Suzanne to talk to properly, but I still cannot tell her everything, how my marriage really is. I am sure she can guess everything is not perfect, but I have made my bed and so must lie in it. This is my marriage, my life now and so I must make the best of it. Pretend to society that I, Lady Blakeney, regret nothing, that everything is how I wanted. I must keep up this façade, I will not let Percy see how his apparent lack of concern bothers me.

5th October 1792 - Percy Blakeney

It was wonderful to see Andrew so happy on his wedding day, he clearly adores young Suzanne and they make a good couple. It did however take me back a year or so to my own wedding, how happy I was that day, how I was convinced that it would be the happiest day of my life. And so it was, right up until the evening when I found out. How could she have done it? Denounced in cold blood not only the Marquis, but his entire family to that bloodthirsty regime. Yet I was given no explanation, I, her husband, nothing, just a blunt admission of the facts. So there ended my perfect marriage, my illusion shattered and I have played the part of a fool both in public and also to my wife ever since. It is getting harder though, one of these days I am going to snap. Just being in the same room as her is hard enough. That is why I go away as often as I do, to forget, to try and make myself forget the feeling of her in my arms, her lips on mine, her hands raking through my hair. I catch that contemptible look in her eyes whenever she glances at me now, it makes me want to take her in my arms there and then, kiss her senseless and show her I'm not this fool I appear.

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A few days later, Marguerite was sitting in front of the mirror, her maid Louise was chattering away as she brushed out her hair before putting it up in the very latest of styles.

"What necklace is your ladyship going to wear tonight then? That lovely blue one Sir Percy brought back from London only the other day, or what about the pearls? I always thinks to myself how lovely you looks in them pearls, brings out your eyes real nice they do."

"Umm, yes, the pearls perhaps" Marguerite replied distractedly, absentmindedly running her fingers over the gorgeous pearl necklace that lay in its case. It was another present from Percy, whatever else she may say about him, he certainly wasn't tight with his money. Every time he went away he would bring back with him yet another priceless gift. Maybe now he had lost all affectionate feeling for her he now felt he had to shower her with presents to make up for his lack of emotion towards her, or were they given out of something else, guilt perhaps? Surely not, what would he need to feel guilty over, it's not as though he had taken a lover or anything.

So lost in thought was she that she failed to realise that Louise had left and someone else was standing in the doorway watching her.

"You like the pearls I take it then?" Came a drawling voice snapping her out of her thoughts as she turned round on her stool to face her husband.

"Yes, I do.....thank you." She replied looking up at him, he was as usual impeccably dressed, his new coat from his latest tailor emphasising his broad shoulders, his fair hair tied back.

"Well good gad we can't have the most fashionable lady in London wanting when it comes to giving her beauty the setting it deserves" he drawled flippantly.

"Why thank you Sir Percy" she replied dryly "Now if you've quite finished, would you mind helping me fasten this?" she said, holding out the necklace to him.

He stepped towards her taking the necklace and fastening it as she turned around, unconsciously lingering behind her as his mind blurred, his pulse beginning to quicken, breathing in her scent as her hair wafted gently against his face. Taking a deep breath he stepped away and turned towards the door "I'll be waiting downstairs. We should go in about five minutes." He said, his voice colder than usual to disguise the slight tremble in it.

"Yes, heaven forbid we should be overly late to the wondrous Lord and Lady Fairfax's ball" she replied slightly bitterly.

"M'dear, you know we can't. His Royal Highness is going, gad woman, we cannot arrive after him, twould be a social scandal no less" he drawled back, the usual lazy half-asleep look on his face, as he looked back at her from under his partially closed lids. He knew she sometimes hated these social occasions, the falseness and pretentiousness of them, she hadn't been brought up with them, they were part of his world, not hers. He wanted to tell her, tell her it was ok, that they could stay home and not go out if she didn't want to, that he was here for her....but no. "Carriage will be ready when you are m'dear" he said coldly as he made his retreat.

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Later that evening, the ball was in full swing. HRH the Prince of Wales had arrived and in very good humour, he had demanded to know the latest of tales of escape from any refugee French aristocrats who were at the ball. He was especially keen to hear any with tales of the latest exploits of that mysterious Englishman; the Scarlet Pimpernel. The elusive man who kept evading the Republican authorities to whisk away prisoners under their very noses, bringing them safely to England. He had been the talk of town for many months now and speculation was rife as to who exactly he and his band of men were. Not only the men wondered but also the women; who was this mystery man, who risked his own life constantly to save those of foreign strangers. How brave, selfless and noble he must be, but more importantly who on earth was he and was he married yet? It was definitely an inevitable topic of conversation at every ball, rout, garden party or soirée, one which was never exhausted as there were new tales of his exploits every week. Many of the women would spend hours gossiping and swapping rumours about this shadowy hero, secretly comparing him to their own husbands who sat swigging punch at the card table or eyeing up the younger, perhaps prettier girls on the dance floor. Some men, perhaps aware of this unfavourable comparison, had taken to trading insults on this "clearly deluded chap who was filling England up with a load of bloody frogs." Marguerite herself winced every time she heard her own husband's little ditty about the man. The now oft-quoted

We seek him here, we seek him there

Those Frenchies seek him everywhere

Is he in heaven? Or is he in Hell?

That demmed elusive Pimpernel!

She sighed as she heard it doing the rounds once more. Her own husband couldn't be any less like the Pimpernel if he tried. A daring deed for Sir Percy was trying out a coat in a different style than one he had before, hardly a knight in shining armour.

"Would you like to dance Lady Blakeney?" She was roused from her ponderings by Lord Greenway, he had been most persistent all evening so she consented, favouring him with a dazzling smile as he led her onto the dance floor.

As the evening wore on, more punch was consumed, the dancing continued, His Highness was kept in a very good mood as he had a running win at the card table. Sir Percy, after an unusually unlucky spell at poker, absented himself from it and made his way back through to the room with all the dancing. Standing in the doorway his eyes immediately sought out his wife, as usual dancing with some starry-eyed youngster who was no doubt hoping to impress and wondering what she saw in her fool of a husband. This was what all these balls were like; she was beautiful, sophisticated and witty. She seemed like an exotic foreign delight, so different maybe to her more reserved English counterparts, that she always had a swarm of young men surrounding her. Their blatantness made his blood boil, they had no idea what she was really like, how intelligent, how funny, they saw her merely as a challenge, the latest wife they could persuade to cheat on her husband. It didn't help when she flirted back though, like she was doing now with that chap Greenway. Tiresome little whelp, he'd been hanging round her a lot recently, she couldn't really be interested in him, could she? The thought made him clench his fists in anger as he watched Lord Greenway whisper something into his wife's ear that made her smile as the dance ended. Suddenly without thinking he moved forward quickly towards them.

"M'dear would you honour your husband with the pleasure of a dance?"

"Sir Percy! I..I..." she stuttered slightly, Percy never before having shown any inclination for dancing.

"Oh come now, surely Lord Greenpeace here or whatever his name is can't have worn you out already?" he replied, a slight edge to his voice though he still wore his usual flippant expression.

"Very well then" she said, accepting his hand as he led her onto the dance floor just as the last waltz was struck up by the orchestra. One of his hands held hers while the other slid gently round her waist as he led her into the first few steps of the dance.

Marguerite was appearing to be concentrating on her steps and not looking up at Percy. What was he doing? He had never danced with her before, not once, he was surprisingly good actually. Maybe she had managed to make him vaguely jealous by flirting with Lord Greenway, maybe she had stirred a reaction out of him and he had wanted to show her that he still had some affection for her. Or perhaps he just didn't want to appear the cuckolded fool in public. Looking up at him as he twirled her round she caught him staring at her, his normally shuttered eyes were curiously intense as he pulled her close for the final few steps and she found herself unable to pull away from his gaze. The dance ended but he kept hold of her a second or so longer than was necessary, his eyes still boring into hers before bowing low and then when he looked up again his eyes were half closed as normal and the inane good-natured look was back on his face.

Disappointed, slightly flustered and wondering if she had just imagined him looking at her like he used to, she allowed him to escort her off the floor.

"Well my feet are still intact Sir Percy, so your claim to have two left feet seems a little unfounded. Maybe that isn't the reason it's taken you so long to ask me to dance after all" she commented dryly.

"Odd's fish m'dear I was concentrating mightily hard on it, and a man can't be seen to dance too regularly with his wife after all, tisn't done." he retorted lazily.

"Well then I won't expect you to endure that again for some time then" she retorted, to which he just bowed, his face expressionless as he escorted them towards the door.

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End file.
